This first chapter and scene sets the stage of the main plot of this relatively short story. Jonas tries to warn Charlene about the true intentions of her friend and mentor Miss Claire, but Charlene does not agree, feeling that Jonas is envious of her closeness with the woman. The scene ends with them basically agreeing to disagree with Charlene proceeding on to meet her mentor for a nice afternoon ladies’ lunch in the city.
“You need to stay away from those old ladies,” Jonas said, throwing the covers halfway over his nude body. He and Charlene had had relations early that morning, like always, and then lay there and talk afterwards. It was how they knew they were destined to be together. It was 9:37am. Charlene threw the covers over her face quickly and giggled. Jonas looked at her and laughed too, but then Charlene heard the tone of his voice become serious.
“Really,” he said. “Leave them old hags alone Charlene.”
He watched her until her face came out from where she hid it. Her dark brown face was beautiful without make-up. He never knew why she wore so much, especially the kind that made her complexion appear lighter than it was. But he did notice she was wearing less make-up as their time together expanded. They had been together almost two years, 22 months exactly. It was a rough patch at first, but they found their groove.
Jonas sat up further in bed and so did she. She made sure the covers wouldn’t reveal her small breasts.
“Are you serious?” she said.
“I sure am.”
“You don’t like her?”
“You know that,” Jonas said. “I never liked her….and she don’t like me, though she pretends to. I don’t trust her, she’s phony.”
He saw a disappointed look take over Charlene’s face and he felt bad, but he loved her and couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Look,” he said. “I tried, you know I did, but I just don’t like that lady. I don’t think she means you any good.”
They were silent. He continued to watch her. He knew she was taking it all in. She stared straight ahead at their worn dresser, the one they brought into his apartment that someone had thrown out in the alley.
“I don’t understand your hatred for her. I really don’t.”
“I wouldn’t call it hatred.”
“Well what do you call it?”
Jonas rose up even further in bed, resting his back against the headboard. She knew he was thinking, trying to get his thoughts together so she rose up as well, resting her back against the headboard too, folding her arms across her chest and covers. If there was one thing she knew about Jonas Evans, it was his intelligence; he wasn’t formally educated, but he was in tune with the human condition. He had never told her anything that didn’t make sense except this. She listened to his opinion because she loved him and respected him, but this time she disagreed with him wholly. He didn’t understand her relationship with Miss Claire, and maybe was little jealous. Miss Claire warned her once that he might be jealous.
She saw him still trying to get his thoughts together; she also knew the subject of Miss Claire exhausted him. He was so good looking to her, but not in the pretty sense. Jonas was a broad shouldered, burly man with kinky hair and milky brown skin. The scar that ran from his left cheekbone to the corner of his lips never bothered her, though he was slightly insecure about it. He got it fighting in a bar in 2002, blamed for hitting on a woman he didn’t even see. Jonas got cut, but the other man was beaten to a near pulp. Jonas did time. The scar made him tough to her, but scar or no scar, Jonas was tough, but he could also be very gentle.
“How many ways can I say she means you no real good?”
“Jonas, I told you about Miss Claire…how she helped me, gave me a place to stay when I was on my ass. It was her place or a shelter. She helped me during the worst times of my life. She fed me, had patience with me until I found a job…until I found you. I can’t just forget that.”
“How about thanks and just move on?” Jonas said.
She turned to him, raised her hand to his face and touched it softly, tracing his scar tenderly with her index finger. He smiled, it tickled a little.
“Baby, it’s just a ladies lunch. Me, Miss Claire and Miss Dottie. I’m coming back home to you.”
Jonas grabbed her, pulling her into him. “I don’t want that old lady to hurt you. She’s not your mother.”
“No she’s not,” Charlene said. “Maybe not by blood, but she’s been more like a mother to me than that woman in Missouri.”
“Are you ever going to speak to her again?” Jonas said.
“Never Jonas.”
They were silent for about a minute.
“So?” Charlene said.
“What?”
“Where does this leave us?”
“Right where we were,” Jonas said. “Miss Claire can’t fuck with this!”
Charlene laughed. “You okay with me telling her?”
“About the baby?”
“Yes.”
“She’s going to get all religious on you.”
“Jonas it’s all good. Miss Claire is just a product of her time.”
Jonas kissed her on the forehead. “Have a nice lunch baby. I’ll be here for you when you get back.”